The A-Z of Animals
by Ashtrees
Summary: Animal one-shots.
1. Aardwolf

**Aardwolf **

Lestrade was not having a good night. Five hours out on stakeout with Sherlock and John, stuck in the freezing cold, in a dark car, and watching for any signs of life from the creepy old house. And all because of a hunch Sherlock had; if, at any time, a single light shone from the upstairs window, then they had their man.

Of course, a small light, had eventually been seen bobbing around from behind the curtains.

They kicked down the door, charged up the stairs and arrested the man.

While Sherlock and John went to explore the rest of the house, Lestrade and the police sergeant stayed upstairs to try and calm down the man, who was shouting and doing his best to put up a struggle.

"What about my Chris?" the man kept crying. "Who will look after him?"

"Chris?"

"Lestrade, I think you better get down here!"

Leaving the man with his sergeant Greg followed John down to the kitchen.

There was a small, stripped, dog-like animal in the kitchen. Around its neck was a dog collar with the name _Chris_ engraved on the disc. Sherlock was knelt down in front of it, watching it warily.

"What's that?" asked Lestrade. "A hyena?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "No, Inspector, I think you'll find that it's an - _argh_-wolf!"

John and Lestrade immediately tackled the animal, pulling it's jaws away from Sherlock's hand. They let go as soon as it had released Sherlock, watching as it backed itself into the furthest corner with its fur raised. The detective himself disappeared into the hall.

"They're not normally so aggressive!" They heard his voice shout from the gloom.

"Whatever," Lestrade sighed. "Are you okay?"

"Normally, they squirt a foul-smelling liquid from their anal glands!"

"What?" John blinked. "What anal glands?"

They turned around just in time to witness the aardwolf putting it's anal glands to full use.

Ooooooo

There were complaints from the other patients and members of staff who were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the same A&E department as Sherlock, John and Lestrade.

"You two really stink," Sherlock complained, as he carefully inspected his hand wrapped up in his scarf. "Do you have sit so close to me?"

"Yes," said Greg and John.

"It's your own fault," Greg went on. "You went and hid while that-that arghwolf -"

"Aardwolf," Sherlock corrected.

"Really? Back at the house it, sounded a lot like a little squeal. Like -"

Greg snatched Sherlock's hand, pressing his thumb down over one of the puncture wounds.

"Ow!" Sherlock yelped, pulling his hand back.

"Not quite, but that was close."

John let out a sigh. "What was he doing with a pet like that, anyway?"

"Some people like unusual pets," Sherlock answered, rubbing his hand. "He's probably had it since it was a cub, smuggled in from another country or a zoo, and raised it to frighten off unwanted visitors."

John nodded, and they lapsed into silence.

"They primarily feed off termites," Sherlock suddenly said.

"Oh, do shut up," John groaned. "I can see you looking it all up on your phone. It's hidden in your coat pocket. I can see the light from the screen."

Sherlock frowned, but did as he was told - shut up and stayed that way until it was his turn to be seen.

Despite being bitten he had enjoyed himself that night. He liked animals and just hoped that Chris the aardwolf would be given a good home. If it truly had been domesticated then maybe, _just _maybe, he would be allowed to -

"We're not keeping Chris," John announced, reading his mind, from behind a five-year old magazine.

Sherlock stuck his tongue out at the doctor and slouched further down in his seat.

Spoil sport.


	2. Bear

**Bears**

Amelia Emma Watson made Sherlock marvel at the power which parental instinct held over John and Mary, particularly over the newborn's appearance. It had transpired that Amelia had only been born for an hour before John had called Sherlock at four in the morning to rave about how beautiful his daughter was. Then, when Sherlock and Mrs Hudson had arrived at the hospital, at a descent hour in the morning, the gushing had started all over again, with both Mary and Mrs Hudson joining in.

"Isn't she lovely?" Mrs Hudson cooed, carefully holding Amelia in her arms.

John was sitting on the bed, next to Mary. They were both beaming as if they had just discovered the secret of making fire.

"Don't you think so, Sherlock?"

Sherlock swallowed a yawn and lent over Mrs Hudson to peer as closely as possible at the baby's face. After a moment's scrutiny he frowned, looked up at John and then down again at Amelia. Then he straightened up, made a show of sliding open his pocket microscope, and began inspecting the baby once again, ignoring the heavy sighs from the room's other occupants.

Eventually, he slid the microscope closed with a loud click. "She'll do," he sniffed.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Great. Thanks, Sherlock."

Mrs Hudson suddenly looked sheepish. "I think I'll have to pop to the bathroom. Sher - uh, no, - Mary?"

John smirked as Mrs Hudson brushed past Sherlock to hand Amelia back to Mary.

"You can hold her if you want to," Mary smiled, once Mrs Hudson had shuffled out of the room.

"No," Sherlock and John said together.

"Not without lessons, you don't," John muttered, stroking Amelia's cheek. "First, you have to pass your theory test. Then I'll make you practise holding a doll."

Sherlock started to rummage around in the bag Mrs Hudson had brought with her.

"I have a present," he announced, sounding slightly embarrassed. "For her."

"Okay, now I'm scared," said John.

Sherlock stood up and thrust something at Mary, staring hard at the ceiling.

"Oh, it's a teddy bear," Mary said, with exaggerated gushy-ness, just to wind Sherlock up a little bit more. "Thank you, Sherlock. Look, Amelia! Look at what your Uncle Sherlock has brought just for you! You lucky girl!"

Sherlock's face flushed bright red. "I'm going!"

"Don't! I was only teasing!"

But, Sherlock had already fled the room.

"That's the last present he will ever buy for her," said John, tugging the bear out of Mary's hand.

"I don't think he brought it. Take a closer look."

John turned the bear over in his hands. It certainly wasn't new and had a black eye patch stuck over it's left eye. Or rather, it was stuck over the hole where the left eye _should have _been. It looked like Sherlock at some point had decided to "pirate" the poor bear up by removing it's eye.

John sighed. "It's his teddy bear." He was unable to suppress a giggle. "I'm surprised he would even admit to ever having one."

"I think it's sweet," said Mary, in between making shushing noises to her daughter. "Has he cleaned it?"

John sniffed its worn fur. "Yeah, smells clean enough."

"And there's nothing hidden inside it? Sharp objects? Secret messages?"

"No, it all looks fine."

"I think it's sweet," Mary repeated.

"Yeah," John smiled. "Me too."


End file.
